He's Reserved by Day, a Player by Night

PROLOGUE

At the Halloween party, I took the campus king s hand by mistake.

Orion Beck, the man who had always been aloof and distant, actually traced a light circle in my palm.

Then he slid a ring onto my finger.

I was stunned, overjoyed, staring into his deep-set eyes.

Why are you suddenly acting like a completely different person?

He reverently kissed the corner of my lips.

Just wanted to try out a new persona.

But when we were back on campus the next day, he reverted to his usual poised and proper self, maintaining a polite distance from every girl, including me.

I cursed him out in my head.

A total player who switched personalities faster than you could flip a page.

After class, he snuck up behind me and gently hooked my pinky with his.

Don t you like this kind of contrast?

01

Tonight was Halloween, and my grand plan was to curl up in my dorm room and binge-watch a new series until my eyes glazed over.

My best friend, Sasha, however, had other ideas.

She burst into my room with the force of a small hurricane, dragged me out of my comfy cocoon, and insisted on dolling me up.

An hour later, I was being hauled to a massive Halloween party happening in the commercial district just off the Auden University campus.

The place was electric, a thrumming hive of energy and sound.

It was packed with young men and women, their faces hidden or transformed by all sorts of intricate makeup and elaborate masks.

Some of the guys, under the moody, pulsating lights and clever costume makeup, were actually pretty cute.

Too bad none of them could hold a candle to Orion Beck.

I glanced at my phone for the tenth time, my screen illuminating my hopeful, then disappointed, face.

The trick or treat message I d sent Orion two hours ago was still sitting there, unanswered, a lonely digital ghost in our chat history.

Just as I d expected.

He had no intention of replying.

With a heavy sigh, I listlessly accepted a glowing jack-o -lantern from a staff member dressed as a grinning ghoul.

Sasha linked her arm through mine, her enthusiasm a stark contrast to my gloom.

Come on, June! Let s find some amazing costumes to take pictures with, she chirped, pulling me deeper into the throng.

Sasha was a master flirt, a natural predator in the social jungle.

Within minutes, a few well-aimed glances and a dazzling smile had a cute guy in a surprisingly convincing vampire costume practically tripping over his own cape to ask for her number.

He even offered to buy her a drink.

Since I was there, a reluctant third wheel, Sasha just added him on her socials and politely declined the drink with a promise of maybe later.

The deeper we went into the party, the more elaborate the decorations became cobwebs dripped from faux trees and skeletons grinned from every corner.

The crowd grew thicker, a sea of bodies moving to the heavy bass of the music.

Worried we d get separated in the chaos, I reached out to grab Sasha s hand, who I thought was right beside me.

A hand immediately closed around mine.

But it wasn't Sasha's.

A large, warm palm completely enveloped my hand, and the light, rough scrape of calluses against my skin sent a strange, ticklish sensation racing up my arm.

A bizarre jolt, sharp and sweet, shot straight to my heart.

Realizing my mistake, I snapped my head up, my apology already forming on my lips.

And then I saw him.

Orion Beck s flawless face came into view, softened by the warm, amber glow of string lights, revealing a gentleness in his features I d never seen before.

02

Orion? I breathed out, my voice barely a whisper.

Knowing his well-established reputation for keeping a respectable, almost clinical distance from all women, I quickly tried to stammer out an apology.

I m so sorry. I thought you were my friend. She was right here just a second ago.

Really? he said, his voice a low, smooth murmur that was almost lost in the thumping music. Because all I saw was you.

My eyes darted around the pulsating crowd, searching for any sign of Sasha s vibrant red witch hat.

He was right.

There was no sign of her.

When the hell did she ditch me without saying a word?

Now, listening to Orion s impossibly calm tone, it sounded like he thought I d engineered this whole encounter.

And okay, I d been harboring a massive, borderline-obsessive crush on him for ages, but I wouldn t resort to something so clumsy and obvious.

Well, I didn t see you either, I retorted, a little defensively. I was looking down the whole time. There s no way I would ve intentionally grabbed your hand.

I know, Orion said, his voice as smooth as silk, and a slow smile spread across his lips. I m the one who let you.

I froze, every thought in my brain screeching to a halt.

My hand was still in his, and I felt his grip tighten, just slightly.

Then, he started slowly, deliberately, tracing lazy circles on my palm with the pad of his thumb.

That tingling, electric itch was back, spreading like wildfire from my hand straight to my heart, which was now hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

What was happening?

This was Orion Beck.

The guy who was famously, almost religiously, uninterested in women. The guy who treated all my painfully obvious attempts at friendliness with an indifference so cold it could cause frostbite.

And he was telling me he *let* me take his hand by mistake?

And now he was caressing my palm as if it were the most natural thing in the world?

Did he have any idea how ridiculously, overwhelmingly intimate that felt?

I wanted to yank my hand back, to press it against his forehead and check for a fever.

Maybe he was sick. Delirious. Maybe someone had slipped something into his drink.

But before I could even begin to process the thought, he deftly slid a cool, silver ring onto my finger.

My eyes widened as I looked down at it, the metal glinting in the party lights.

The ring was exquisitely carved with a delicate, detailed rose.

A rose&

My gaze snapped back to his, a fresh wave of indignation washing away my confusion.

Aren't you allergic to roses?

03

Just a few weeks ago, I had finally worked up the courage to confess to him.

I d stood there, my heart pounding, holding a carefully chosen bouquet of crimson roses.

He had pushed them back towards me with an expression so impassive it was almost cruel.

Sorry, he d said, his voice flat. I m allergic to roses.

I didn t give up that easily. What about other flowers? I d asked, my voice trembling slightly.

The same.

What if it s not flowers? What if it s a different kind of gift?

Orion had adjusted his glasses, a gesture that seemed to create an even greater distance between us.

I have a particularly sensitive constitution, he d stated, as if reading from a medical textbook. I m allergic to most things.

Right.

I d gotten the message loud and clear.

Stop giving him things.

He was allergic to *me*.

The memory of that public, soul-crushing humiliation stung, and I immediately tried to pull the ring off my finger.

Orion s fingers gently but firmly pressed mine, stopping the motion.

I only said that because I didn t want you to keep giving me things, he said, his voice softer now, a stark contrast to the cold memory.

His gaze was intense, holding mine captive.

Roses are something I should be giving to you. It took me a while to find this one. I hope you like it.

A strange, mesmerizing glimmer of light danced in his eyes, and for a second, I felt myself getting completely lost in them.

Thankfully, a single, stubborn sliver of my sanity remained intact.

Orion, are you running a fever? Or has your body been snatched by an alien? You didn't even bother to answer my text message from earlier.

He pulled out his phone, his movements fluid and unhurried, and glanced at the screen.

My apologies. I was busy earlier and didn t get a chance to look at my phone.

I shot him a skeptical look, and it was only then, as my eyes raked over him, that I noticed how different he looked tonight.

He wasn t in his usual casual attire of well-worn jeans and a university sweatshirt.

Instead, he wore a stylish, layered all-black outfit that looked effortlessly cool.

The turtleneck sweater under his tailored coat was slightly fitted, and if I looked closely, I could just make out the subtle, powerful contours of muscle underneath.

They say a fitted sweater is a man s secret weapon of sex appeal.

I never thought Orion would be the type to know that, let alone wield it so effectively.

So, was *this* what he was so busy with?

Getting dressed up?

My hand started to itch with a different kind of curiosity.

Hey mister, trick or treat!

A small, childish voice suddenly cut through my thoughts, breaking the intense spell between us.

It was a little boy, maybe six or seven, dressed as a tiny pirate, looking up at us with wide, expectant eyes.

I didn t have any candy on me, so I offered him my glowing jack-o -lantern instead.

The little pirate shook his head, his plastic sword rattling.

No, thank you. But can I take a picture with the pretty lady?

I was a bit baffled.

I wasn t even in a special costume, just a simple black dress and a witch hat Sasha had forced on me. What was there to take a picture of?

Orion s hand tightened around mine again, a silent, possessive gesture.

I felt a subtle shift in his posture and instinctively followed his gaze.

Under the deep shadow of a nearby oak tree, a man in his thirties was watching us, his face obscured by the darkness.

In an instant, I understood.

The kid was bait.

My stomach clenched. I was trying to figure out how to politely but firmly refuse when Orion reacted with lightning speed.

He swiftly pulled me closer, wrapping a protective arm around my shoulders and tucking me securely against his side.

Sorry, little man, he said, a charming, disarming smile on his face that didn t quite reach his eyes. You can t. This lady is my candy.

His voice was light and playful, but his aura was chillingly absolute.

The little boy, startled by the sudden shift in atmosphere, quickly handed the jack-o -lantern back to me and scurried away into the crowd, disappearing like a ghost.

04

Hey, you scared the poor kid, I said, nudging him with my elbow, though a part of me was grateful for his quick intervention.

I wiggled my fingers, which were still completely engulfed in his hand.

And are you ever going to let go?

We d been holding hands for a while now, and a thin, warm layer of sweat from both our palms was starting to mingle, a strangely intimate sensation.

Orion just smirked, a corner of his mouth tipping up in a way that was both infuriating and captivating.

He started walking, his steps purposeful, pulling me along with him through the colorful, chaotic throng.

I don t know, he said, his eyes fixed forward on some unseen destination. But I don t feel like letting go just yet.

Watching his handsome profile, the sharp line of his jaw silhouetted against the flashing lights, a wave of uncharacteristic recklessness washed over me.

Well then, I said, my voice bolder and steadier than I felt, do you want a taste of your candy?

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